Harper Tarui Whore ❤️

About Fukuoka

Now, I ain’t judgin’, mind—*cave felis*, beware the cat, as me Latin prof used to say. Whore’s a survivor, ain’t she? Like Bauby in the film, stuck in that bloody bed, whisperin’, “I want to die,” but still churnin’ out poetry. Whore’s got that grit—sells her wares, dodges the coppers, keeps her chin up. Makes me happy, that does—tough as old boots, she is! Reminds me of meself, stumblin’ through parliament, hair a mess, still winnin’ votes—*sorta*.

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First off, I grab my gear and head out. I’m cruising down Kōen-dōri, and I can’t help but admire the cherry blossoms. They’re in full bloom, and it’s like nature’s confetti. But then, BAM! I hit a pothole. My coffee goes flying. Great start, huh? I’m cursing under my breath, but whatever, I’m an arborist. I can handle a little chaos.

Fig. 1. Schematic diagram for a role of GR in recycling of glutathione...